


Love Is Not A Victory March

by believe_that_you_can_my_friend



Category: Archie Comics, Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Feels, Fluff and Angst, I love angst what can I say, Love, OTP Feels, Post 1x11, True Love, bughead-Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-03
Updated: 2017-05-03
Packaged: 2018-10-27 14:11:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10810620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/believe_that_you_can_my_friend/pseuds/believe_that_you_can_my_friend
Summary: Madly searching for Jughead all night, Betty finally finds him ready to move away from Riverdale. After an ugly confrontation, can the two of them work their issues and come out stronger from the raging flames of the reality around them? Takes place after the ending scene of episode 11.





	Love Is Not A Victory March

Silver heels clicked rhythmically down the brick steps of Pop’s entrance, halo blonde hair swaying in the wind and a sea of Evening Haze satin leaving a trail of feminine elegancy with every determined step she took. At that very moment Betty Cooper looked like a heroine straight out of a John Hughes movie; effortlessly beautiful, politely innocent and a heartbreaking damsel in distress, ready to be swiped off her feet by her lovely prince charming in the form of the misunderstood high school loner. However, reality was far from that. She didn’t need to be saved. This time, it was the misunderstood high school loner that sought salvation, that needed more than ever a heroine that would grab his hand while drowning and pull him to surface again, away from his demons, away from the darkness that seemed to surround his golden soul. Betty could, _would_ , be that heroine for him.

Two weeks ago when she was picking her dress and Jughead’s suit from the dry cleaner with a pleased smile and a cheerful hop on her pace she had imagined Homecoming as a night to remember.  Walking inside the school gym hand in hand with the boy she was madly in love with, slow dancing with him under the sky of twinkle lights she had personally placed for the occasion, sneaking sweet kisses on his soft lips, sitting with him under the bleachers when the party would start to die out, cuddling and stargazing, while whispering sweet nothings to each other. Her dreamy fantasy never came true though. The night had started ominously and then escaladed to complete chaos, leaving her with a perfectly ironed dress but no boy to wrinkle it inside the intensity of his embrace.

Jughead had run away. And why wouldn’t he? She went behind his back, everybody kept lying to him, including her, the person he trusted the most. It might not have been entirely her fault but Betty was still responsible for not warning him, for not confiding in him about what she did know from her mom and what her true intentions were behind this dinner. But how could see do that? How could she be so cruel to crash his hopes when he had sported a smile like that, a smile so big and utterly euphoric at the mere thought of her mother, the ice-cold Alice Cooper, liking him enough to welcome him into her home and make an effort to learn more about him and his family? It was the first time she saw him smile in content, not smirking, not sardonically grinning, just simply smiling out of joy, an expression that suited so damn much his handsome face. Betty simply couldn’t find it in her to watch that face drop at the realization that once again happiness didn’t pick his side.

She needed to see him, even though he clearly didn’t want to see her or anyone else ever again. He was hurt, she knew that much, but he loved her. Jughead Jones loved her; broken, damaged, insecure Betty Cooper. Even in his betrayed and beat up state he had let her know that she was the most important thing in his life, that he would move heaven and hell just to be with her. He was going to refuse the reconnecting of his family, abandon the stability that all those years he was longing for, just to stay forever on her side, without even thinking twice, without putting himself first, without even daring to imagine a life without her. Just because he had looked through that rain-stained window and saw her waiting for him, saw his whole future flashing before his eyes. And it was the most brilliant future a man could ask for indeed.

Betty didn’t know if they had a future anymore. What she did know was that she had to warn him – she needed to – that the ploys of their small hometown weren’t over, that the arrest of his father was just a façade, a well-orchestrated plan for the tracks of the real killer to be buried in the river’s mud forever. Betty dreaded the state she would find Jughead in. She knew that this was the last straw, that this was the drop that made the glass of pumped up despair overflow, and at a time that he believed everything was going to be fine, at a time he had _hope_ for the first time in his life. His breakdown would be utterly heartbreaking and self-destructive, she was sure about that. That’s why her steps had now a new-found vigor and determination, heels sinking into thick snow but the cold somehow never succeeding in piercing through her bare limps. Maybe because she couldn’t feel anything anymore apart from her heart aching and breaking for the boy that had brought a new meaning to the word “love” in her own personal dictionary of feelings.

She didn’t know what time it was. She guessed it was late from the lack of people in the streets and the night chill that was causing goosebumps to appear on her bare arms. She had searched everywhere for him; the school, Pop’s, his dad’s vandalized trailer, the clearing that overlooked the former drive-in, every single hidden writing spot of his throughout town. Jughead was nowhere to be seen. At this point Betty was starting to get worried. Did something happen to him? Did he do something stupid? Did he do something stupid to himself? Betty’s head was spinning with all the horrific scenarios. She was in a state of shock, running down the road like a mad woman and feeling her eyes burning from the cold and the fat tears that were threading to escape her waterline, rosy lips turned dark and awfully bitten now due to her attempt to hold back her anxiety and keep her calm. The clicking of her heels brought her to her house again, wishfully thinking that he would be there, lurking on her porch like every other night that demanded his fair share of night kisses with a cheeky boyish smirk, this time wanting to talk this over with her and make up with her, ending this awful torture and awful night once and for all. Her porch was empty though and Betty’s heart fell at the sight, dropped to the floor and stopped beating right here and there, useless, since the person it was beating for wasn’t part of her life anymore.

She let her aching body slide down on the brick porch stairs and that’s when the waterfall of tears began, the Hitchcock blonde sobbing silently at her promise of love lost. Her fingers yanked violently the sparkly hairpin off the side of her head, no use for it to be there anymore since her messy tresses had long before broke free and ruined her elegant hairstyle, before she pushed her uncomfortable shoes off her feet with venom, gasping at her slightly bleeding toes that matched her bleeding heart. She didn’t care about anything anymore; not about the cold that was piercing though her scantily clad figure, not about the mud and the melting snow that was staining the hem of her pretty dress, not about its matching pashmina that she had lost somewhere along the way. She only cared about him and the way that awful, hushed “ _for you_ ” echoed inside her mind, like his ultimate sacrifice and her ultimate blame for the state he was now in. She gasped a louder sob and her hands turned into fists on top of her curled legs, the urge to hurt herself now more prominent than ever and she didn’t even feel the pinch of pain as her short nails broke the already irritated skin of her palms, she only saw the red droplets besmirch the satin over her thighs, exhaling a deep sorrowing sigh out of trembling lips at the image and the darkness of depression that was threatening to shallow her whole.

Wood against wood banging loudly disrupted the calmness of the night and Betty jumped, red teary eyes focusing to the source at her left, the Andrews’ household. A larky silhouette emerged from the shadows, a knitted beanie that she came to love misplaced and in the verge of falling off the head of a running boy, and Betty sprung up from her seat in reflex, easing her fists at the sight of him, the love of her life, in one shape despite his fuming movements. FP’s olive green truck was awfully parked at the side of the house, half on the road, half on the pavement, his driving depicting his inner messed up state, and Betty watched Jughead’s long limps strode towards it, the boy totally blinded from range to notice anything around him. He looked exactly like some hours ago when he had come over for that dinner from hell, his grin reaching his ears at the sight of Betty opening the door all dressed up for him, but his black duffle bag was hoisted over his shoulder, packed to the hilt with what seemed was all his belongings. Betty felt her anger rose in an instant. He was going to flee, run away like a thief in the night; without talking to her, without explaining, without even sparing her a cold and indifferent goodbye. Her hands bawled in fists again but not to hold back her anger this time. Determined, with fury in her green eyes and tight lips, she quickly made her way to him, shoes carelessly forgotten by the end of her porch stairs.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she appeared in front of him and the raven-haired boy bounced back on his heels at the abrupt way he was yanked out of his hazy state. He blinked in shock at her presence but the rage won over the momentary pinch of guilt he felt looking at her puffy eyes, resuming his curt pace and passing her by with a light push against her shoulder.

“What I should have done ages ago.” He was not in a good place and the things that were coming out of his mouth were deprived of logic, the anger in his voice matching his fuming steps as she tried to keep up behind him, peddles cutting right through the sensitive skin of her soles, not that she even noticed. “Riverdale is over for me. I only had my dad and he ended up being a lying dick too so there’s nothing holding me here anymore.” He gave her a side glance, a pointy one, one that was supposed to hurt and it did, bad.

“You might want to hold back before pointing fingers and setting labels.” Betty decided to pay him back the same treatment, throwing the most unfair statement his way. By the glint in his stone cold eyes, this hurt too. “Your dad is innocent. Somebody is framing him.” She informed him, stopping abruptly as he did too, alert and surprised, turning around to fully face her for the first time.

“What? How did you find out?” Jughead demanded, being done with beating around the bush and playing games.

“I didn’t. Archie and Veronica told me about it.” She went on to explain, watching him huff and drop his head to the ground at the mention of their friends’ names. “There was no gun when they searched the trailer. Somebody planted it in the closet after they had left.”

“Of course.” He scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief. “I should have known you’re still conspiring with those two.” He sent her a look so heavily colored with bitterness and disappointment before he turned his back at her, once again starting to walk.

“Don’t you dare walk away from me!” Betty raised her voice an octave and lashed forward, grabbing the strap of his backpack, effectively snatching it off his shoulder. “And I’m not conspiring with anyone. I ran into them at Pop’s while I was scouring the whole town looking for you.” She replied in his language of sarcasm.

“No need.” Furious, he yanked his belongings off her hands. “Whatever this is, I’m done.” He declared in all seriousness, taking a step back but fuming Betty was a more than usual determined Betty.

“No!” She firmly spat, feeling her heart drop at how easily he wanted to end things between them and grabbed hold of his duffel bag once again. He was going to face the music whether he liked it or not. “Are you seriously running away from this? From me?” She couldn’t believe her words. And most importantly she couldn’t believe that the same Jughead Jones that always looked at her like she was the stars and the moon was now giving her a look that could turn her whole being into ice.

“You ran away from me first!” he accused her bitterly. “With all the lies and the secrets you kept and still keep from me. You are the one giving up on us!” His voice was deep, gravely, and Betty actually let a gasp at his tone and his words, not quite recognizing the man in front of her.

“I’m giving up on us?” she breathed incredulously.  “ _I’m giving up on us_?!” she repeated in a high-pitched voice, drawing out the words and pointing out the “I’m” and “us” like he had just accused her of the most horrific crime.  “Me, the one that trust you with all my being,” she unbuckled the flap of his backpack, her voice gradually rising in anger “that went against my mother to defend you,” she made one of his plaid shirts a wrinkled ball and threw it on the pavement out of mean spite, Jughead’s eyes growing wide at the action as her tone continuing into semi-yelling now “that respected your wish not to tell me about you dad” a Kafka book joined his shirt with a loud thud “that stripped emotionally bare” his S t-shirt was next “and shared everything with you that damn night at Pop’s?!” with those last words in a shriek she threw the whole bag viciously to the ground, Jughead’s horrified eyes not daring even blink at her outburst. “I showed you this,” Betty opened her palms “ _THIS_ ,” she emphasized outstretching her arms more towards him with new tears in her eyes and she watched as he became concerned for a moment, once seeing the fresh wounds against her delicate skin “and you have the nerve to say to my face that I’m giving up on us, when clearly I had no idea what was going on?” her face was stone-cold and matching his own frustration painted one, her jaw clenched at how unfair he was being to her this whole evening.

Jughead had the good sense to not push her further but the pitch black of his eyes remained. “You could have warned me.” He repeated his words from their brief face-off in the school corridor earlier. “Instead, you decided to play the pretty little Stepford wife along with your mom. Was even a single thing of what you said during that dinner genuine or was it all just scripted by Alice Cooper herself, huh?” he desperately wanted to know that this whole night wasn’t just a fraud, one of the Coopers’ manipulative plans to have their way like they always did. He desperately wanted to believe that Betty was better than that. Deep down he knew but his ire against the world and his father and the life he was forced to live was fogging his mind and judgement.

“Do you seriously think that low of me?” Betty’s tone of disappointment pierced right through his chest.

“I don’t know what to think anymore, Betty!” It was his time to snap, pinching the bridge of his nose in an attempt to appear civilized and not go once again on a breaking things spree, the burning urge to indulge in the violent tendencies that discovered he had in him earlier in his dad’s trailer terrifying him.

“I did everything, _everything_ , for us to have a perfect night.” She excused herself and her behavior, holding her ground.

“I didn’t want such perfect of a night! I wanted you to talk to me, goddammit!” He was the one yelling now, arms opening to his sides in exasperation. “After what we shared with each at that booth at Pop’s, after we promised to always confide in each other and communicate,” there was an accusatory tone in his voice, Betty dropping her eyes to the ground under his scrutinizing gaze “it’s like you deliberately erased that night and went again full control-seeking Betty on us, going behind my back with that annoying notion that you can make everything perfect and problem-free without me knowing, like I’m just a weak-willed pawn in this relationship!” He ended with a shout at the top of his lungs, hurt and betrayed, just like he had felt the night of his birthday, his outrage continuing in a blink by Betty’s own shouting.

“I know, alright, I know!” she cried out, making him stop and stare. “I did it again, I made a mistake. And I’m so sorry for that.” The tears ran freely again down her cheeks as she silently pleaded for him to forgive her. “You just seemed so…happy” she breathed the word and sobbed, snapping her tired eyes closed in despair “and all I ever wanted was for you to be happy, for me to make you happy. But I guess I don’t know how and every time I try, I do these awful things and I fail.” As of instinct, Jughead took a step forward; Betty in a mess of salty tears was his Achilles’ heel. Despite how mad he was or spiteful, he could never just stand by and watch when she was hurting this bad and especially because of him, because she couldn’t see how truly happy he made him every day just by holding his hand and saving a dashing smile just for him. But Betty raised a bloody palm and took a step back, putting even more distance between them, bare soles freezing against the cold and wet pavement, but she couldn’t feel anything, just her heart breaking at what she was about to say.

“You should be happy, you deserve it more than anyone in this world and if you wanna leave, you should, I’ll understand.” She sighed heavily, eyes taking in the barely audible gasp of sadness that was his reaction. “This mess, my mess of broken mind and soul, is not yours to deal with every day and it would be so unfair for you to drown along with me. So you should go ahead, seek the life you deserve with your family.” She gave him a free way out, an open window to jump out of the chaos that surrounded Betty Cooper and never look back, not waste his potential for somebody like her.

“Betty…” his voice broke at what she was implying, red eyes getting watery at the thought of her underestimating herself once again and believing that everyone was better off without her. He was only better _with_ her, how could she not see that?

The crying girl in front of him shook her head. “Seriously, you’re off the hook. When I saw you, backpack and all, I thought I would hold it against you but I can’t. I just…” she paused, licking her dry and chapped from the night chill lips, those lips that Jughead longed to kiss right at that very moment and wash away the bitterness of her words “I just wanted to give it a try you know, to maybe succeed in talking you out of leaving. Because if you leave right now you’re going to confirm what everyone thinks about me. That I’m this crazy, broken, unfixable, pathetic girl that nobody cares enough to include in their lives, the one that just stands back watching everyone pass her by, forgetting that she exists. The awful second choice.” She chuckled with no humor at the words, her fake smile turning into a grimace of pain as she looked up at him, vulnerable and broken. “And I won’t bear it from you, Juggie.” She whispered with a shake of her head. “The world is one thing but you… You became the biggest part of my life and if you get inside that truck right now everything is going to snap into a million worthless pieces. This, right here,” her index finger poked the center of her chest “will be empty forever.”

“And I know that’s selfish of me but I just wanted you to know how much of an impact you had in my life, how those months were the best I ever experienced and how much I loved you and still love you and will love you for probably the rest of my eventless life.” Betty confessed without even noticing, words getting tangled up inside deep sighs and sobs and broken chokes. The force and the weight of those three little words made Jughead stumble around his long limps, a gasp spilling out of his parted in shock lips as the atmosphere shifted around them and his heart started fluttering out of rhythm at the declaration. “Go, Jug, now. Leave Riverdale, leave me and create a wonderful life away from all this chaos. Before my will gets bended and I start begging you not to leave me behind cause I don’t know how to live without you anymore, I don’t, I can’t…” she hung her head low, ashamed and beaten, tiny sobs escaping her as the back of her palm came to wipe away the wetness on her cheek.

It was a heart-breaking sight. But his mind couldn’t still work around those magical words of utter devotion she had just spoken for him and only him to receive. “What did you say?” he wanted to make sure that he had heard correctly. That Betty Cooper, the Betty Cooper of his dreams, loved him, the guy he believed was always the furthest thing of an option she would consider.

“That I love you, Jughead. I’m not just falling in love with you; I’m already passed that point.” Betty confessed in all honesty, pleading him with her liquid green eyes to love her even a tiny ounce back.

“You love me…” he breathed, not quite believing it still, blue trouble eyes now soft and examining her stunningly beautiful face even in its teary state.

“Yeah, I really do…” she used the same tone, a breathy whisper, to reply, nodding slowly in confirmation as a tiny sad smile danced for a nanosecond on her lips.

Something started suffocating him in his chest and this time it wasn’t darkness or despair; it was a delicious feeling, a feeling that supplied him with the courage that he could do anything, a feeling that made him feel alive. Jughead let his eyes roam over her for the first time after she stormed to stop him from running away like a coward. She still looked beautiful, even more so, with her stained cheeks, her messed up hair, the signs of her moment of weakness on the skirt of her dress. She looked more human, just a girl standing there in the cold, looking like Cinderella in distress with both her glass slippers missing, off-white toe nails sparkling like pricey pearls against the atrocious cement of the pavement. It was obscure and he loved her even more just because of that.  

He lashed forward again and this time she didn’t stop him, too lost in her sobs to actually refuse him. He hugged her with all his power, tight, secure, lovingly, as if that way he was going to glue all her broken pieces together and ease the burden off her chest. He felt her anchor herself on the material of his jacket on his back and he buried his face in her neck, eyes closing as he took in a rich dose of her addicting vanilla scent. _Family_. _Home_.

“Shh, don’t cry. Please, I hate it when you cry.” He started cooing, hugging her even tighter and running his palms up and down her shaking shoulders and back. “Shh, stardust, I got you, it’s okay, I’m not leaving, I’m not going anywhere. I’m here.” He promised her this and many more and kept talking about how much it would cost him if he left without her, until her cries started to subdue, her face nudging against his chest, right above his heart, mimicking his breathing and finding comfort in his personal male scent that reminded her of protection and freedom.

“I’m sorry for not letting you know about the dinner and my mom—” she tried to apologize again in a small voice but he cut her off.

“If somebody should be apologizing that’s me. For not believing in you. For doing the exact same thing I accused you of doing.” He took a deep breath, resting his forehead against hers and letting the pads of his fingers draw abstract shapes over her arms. “I was scared for my dad, scared of being lied to by all the important people in my life and I let my anger get the best of me, I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve this.” He rubbed his forehead against hers in affection, sighing when he felt her leave a butterfly kiss on the corner of his lips, tender and sweet, to ease away his worries.

“And you don’t deserve anything that’s happening to you.” she replied in a heartbeat. “What Archie and Veronica did was unacceptable. But they hold FP’s freedom in their hands, if they go to Sheriff Keller and let him know what—”

“Shh, not now.” Jughead gathered her hands in his, bringing them between their faces and gently pecking each of her fingers, the tiny hints of dry blood making him vow not to leave her side ever again with every pinch of pain the muddy red delivered to his soul. “Please, I just want to be with you like that for tonight.” He hugged her again and they both sighed, getting lost in the presence of each other and the afterglow of their make-up.

“I really wish we had the chance to slow dance tonight.” Betty whispered dreamingly against his shoulder, after what seemed like a century of silence, her freezing hands roaming over the warm material of his jacket on his back.

He wished that too; more than anything in the world.

“C’mere.” He caught himself saying without thinking twice, curling a strong arm around her waist and slightly lifting her off the ground, before letting her bare feet rest against the leather of his shoes.

“Juggie, wha—” she scoffed incredulously, eyes dropping on their feet and then up to his face, the humorous glint in her glassy orbs bringing a small sincere smile on his face.

“Just let me love you, Betty Cooper.” He tugged a strand of hair lovingly behind her ear before whispering, feeling her melt and nudge into his touch, his fingers running from the back of her earlobe down her neck, to her exposed collarbone, shoulder, all the way down her arm until they found her palm, lingering for a minute on her small moon-shaped scars before his long and bony fingers splayed across the expense of her tiny hand, delivering a sensual caress along her own fingers and then settling perfectly on their spaces in between. He started swaying them slightly to some imaginative music, humming next to her ear, as his feet moved timidly to assist hers in moving.

“ _Now I’ve heard there was a secret chord_

_That David played, and it pleased the Lord_

_But you don’t really care for music, do you?_ "

His voice filled the silence around them, soothing and raspy from all the emotions erupting inside his chest. Betty had never heard Jughead sing before but his singing murmur was such a familiar melody in her head, something safe and calm, like a lullaby or a prayer. It was exciting, it was loving, it was all that they both needed right now to mend their broken hearts and make amends with each other, come out stronger and more in love just like every other time.

" _It goes like this_

_The fourth, the fifth_

_The minor fall, the major lift_

_The baffled king composing Hallelujah_

_Hallelujah…_ ”

She could feel his fingers move over the satin of her dress on her waist, up her spine, against the porcelain skin of her exposed back. And she could feel him shiver inside her embrace, the words of the song trembling out of his lips but never losing their meaning, a meaning that applied to them individually and as a union, one of her favorite songs, transforming under the magic touch of his articulate voice. In that moment she loved him even more, not knowing if that was possible, but she could feel it, she could feel her heart combust and expand to accommodate this new and immense feeling that she got to experience only with the most unique boy in the whole universe.

“ _Your faith was strong but you needed proof_

_You saw her bathing on the roof_

_Her beauty and the moonlight overthrew you_ "

Jughead tightened more the hold around her waist. He was in such a place of utter vulnerability but for the first time in his life he didn’t care. Because he was opening up to her, revealing his whole self to the girl of his dreams. He could feel her soft feminine curves pressed heavenly on his own slender frame, every inch of hers glued to every inch of his. His mind wondered back to the way she looked waiting for him at the entrance of the school gym; showered in moonlight, stunningly beautiful in the sea of satin that she had chosen to wear. She was a dream come true, an ethereal fairy right out of fairytale land, his personal Venus reincarnation. He didn’t have the heart to leave her; he was way much of a coward to do that. Maybe it would be best for her to let her be and thrive away from the iron bars of his weird self but at this point it was physically impossible for him to do so. Once her lips had touched his, the spell couldn’t be broken.

" _She tied you to a kitchen chair_

_She broke your throne, and she cut your hair_

_And from your lips she drew the Hallelujah_

_Hallelujah…_ ”

To somebody on the outside looking in this would appear ridiculous; two high school kids, dancing in the middle of the street in the wee hours of the morning. But they both didn’t care about labels or empty facades or high school titles of geekiness or honor. They only cared about each other, about what they had. And they silently promised to each other that they wouldn’t let anyone break them again, as they danced in their own silly manor, his long, slightly uncoordinated limps guiding her gracious ones.

“ _Maybe there’s a God above_

_But all I’ve ever learned from love_

_Was how to shoot somebody who outdrew ya_ "

Love was a scary concept for both of them, something that none of them was familiar with, familiar with the purity of it. All they had ever known from their families was to hurt those who hurt them, an eye for an eye, how to inflict pain on anyone that would break their heart. His mother had done it to his father, her father had done it to her mother. It was a vicious circle, a circle that they lived and grew up in, and a circle they wished to change by being true to each other, best friends, lovers, soulmates all in one and never without any of the other. And they would do it because they weren’t their parents, they weren’t their families. They were better than them, stronger than all the white noise around them, and capable to make this work, despite the hardships that were and would be thrown their way.

" _And it’s not a cry that you hear at night_

_It’s not somebody who’s seen the light_

_It’s a cold and it’s a broken Hallelujah_

_Hallelujah…_ ”

The road would not be easy, love was never easy. They both knew that and they were both more than willing to fight for what they had, for the meaning that their life had taken once they walked to each other’s life. The lyrics turned to humming again, the twirling around turned to lightly swaying from side to side. And something inside his mesmerized by her presence mind snapped, urging him to reassure her with words too, not only actions, that her feelings weren’t one-sided, that this deep and foreign feeling was one hundred present mutual.

“Betty, I—” he choked in a breath, not finding the words, and so he kissed her. Long, passionately, bruising, the kind of kiss that people long to experience in a lifetime if their lucky stars allow it. It left Betty dizzy and breathless, her being the one to exhale against his lips this time from the intensity of it all when they pulled back for air, a needy, trembling exhale that sent shivers down his spine along with the way she was glued to his chest and clinging to his shoulders for dear life.

“You love me back.” The realization hit her in full force and Jughead didn’t know how she had found her voice to speak after such world-colliding connection but he forced himself to answer, wanting to scream at the top of the rooftops how crazy he was about her.

“Do you honestly believe that I would even stand a chance against you, the only girl I’ve ever loved since I can remember myself and the only girl I’m sure I’m only going to love for the years to come? I do love you, Betty. That’s the easiest part of my rollercoaster of a life.” He confessed truthfully, with eyes the calmest shade of blue, feeling the girl in his arms surrender her whole self to him.

“So don’t let go.” Betty whispered against his lips, chest lying against his and fingers creeping on his tie to have him closer.

“I won’t.” was all that Jughead vowed before everything hushed around them and their lips met in a slow dance that lasted all night long.


End file.
